


Berlin's Third-Best Gay Fetish Bar

by louis_quatorze



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louis_quatorze/pseuds/louis_quatorze
Summary: However, he was a Bavarian village boy in a jockstrap. And that was definitely Bastian Schweinsteiger.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thomasmxller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasmxller/gifts).



You weren’t supposed to recognize anyone. Or at least, you weren’t supposed to know who anyone was, beyond whether they were fuckable or not, maybe stretching to whether you’d seen them here before or not. You came here for anonymity, and Thomas knew that. Thomas wasn’t stupid. 

However, he was a Bavarian village boy in a jockstrap. And that was definitely Bastian Schweinsteiger. 

He’d tried, a little halfheartedly, to conceal that fact, which was probably the best way to conceal it. His hair looked messed up, which wasn’t a look he had very often, not just out of place but styled in a way that didn’t look normal, and he pushed his shoulders in in an odd sort of way, and there was just the incongruity of the whole thing, like there was no way that Bastian Schweinsteiger would be in Berlin’s third-best gay fetish bar. 

That was definitely him, though.

Thomas tried to be subtle about checking him out, which was funny because well, Thomas wasn’t usually all that subtle. He wouldn’t call himself a regular here, but well, this and places like this were one of the perks of living in Berlin. Not that there weren’t these kind of places in Munich, probably, but it just didn’t seem right somehow. Munich was placid and comfortable and warm, beer steins and shopping trips for boring clothes with his mother. Berlin was where the debauchery happened. It practically invented it. It was one of the reasons – not the only, Holger, he had others – that he’d moved in the first place. Thomas wouldn’t go to a place like this in Munich.

Most importantly, neither would Bastian Schweinsteiger.

Thomas was under no illusions about his objective attractiveness, at least compared to some people he saw out at the parties, but he’d found that youth and confidence made up for anything. (And he was skinny, at least.) The fact that Bastian Schweinsteiger was here therefore meant that there was a pretty good chance he could hook up with Bastian Schweinsteiger. He wondered briefly whether the jockstrap had been a good idea tonight or not – it was either something Bastian Schweinsteiger would be really into, seeing how he was a mega-famous footballer and all, or something that he would absolutely loathe, seeing how he was a mega-famous footballer and all. It had been something that worked for Thomas, back when he was still playing, but he wasn’t Bastian Schweinsteiger. 

Bastian Schweinsteiger was definitely looking at him.

Well, that was at least part of the problem solved, then. 

Thomas smiled back, hooking a thumb into his waistband. His smile tended to work – he wasn’t the kind of guy who could pout and pose and look off into the middle distance, but he had a smile that people tended to respond to. With a little luck, Bastian Schweinsteiger was one of those people. 

Bastian moved closer.

Thomas closed the distance. “You come here often?” he murmured, grinning, fully leaning into the ridiculousness of the line and the situation. Either it would work, or it wouldn’t, and either way, he could say he tried. (Not that he would tell. He wanted to be let back in.) 

Bastian laughed and shook his head. “No.” 

“Well, you’ve missed out.” Thomas shrugged, still smiling, delighted that this was working. It would work, he could tell. “Last week it was a puppy party. You know, rubber dog masks and shit.”.

That drew another laugh out of Bastian, louder this time. “Good thing I’m here this week.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t here either. I only saw the posters.” 

“Even more of a reason.” Bastian shrugged, not at all subtly looking Thomas over, eyes settling on his crotch. So maybe it was more than just some half-remembered locker-room fantasies that lead to Thomas picking the jockstrap as his fetish-wear of choice. Everyone worked with their best assets, or at least they should. Thomas knew he was hung. 

“Glad you’re here too.”

Thomas wasn’t really the biggest fan of the back room. Not that he wasn’t sort of an exhibitionist – he kind of was, he wasn’t going to lie – but he didn’t really like how quick it made everything. He could start there, sure, but he liked to finish somewhere that he could really make a night of it. Most people he was hooking up with weren’t Bastian Schweinsteiger, though. Not that he wouldn’t want to see where Bastian Schweinsteiger was staying in Berlin – he bet it was really nice, whether it was a hotel or maybe some fancy apartment somewhere, the kind with massive kitchens and big windows – but he got the sense that Bastian didn’t bring people back there. Couldn’t. And he doubted that Bastian Schweinsteiger would be interested in going back to Thomas’, not that Thomas really wanted to take him there. Sure, he’d cleaned up, but still, he hadn’t exactly been expecting Bastian Schweinsteiger. If he had, he probably would have hidden the Bayern scarf over his bed. Or added more. He wasn’t really sure how to read Bastian in terms of the whole Bayern thing. 

Whatever the case, Thomas’ normal routine or not, he was willing to change up (nearly) anything if the result was hooking up with Bastian Schweinsteiger. Which was exactly what was happening right now, so Thomas wasn’t complaining. Bastian had backed Thomas up against a wall and was kissing him enthusiastically, hand wrapped around his hip, and Thomas could not be more thrilled about the entire situation. Bastian had nice hands. 

“Can I suck your cock?” Bastian asked.

“Fuck, yeah.” Thomas felt like he had never agreed to anything so quickly in his life. He watched avidly as Bastian Schweinsteiger dropped, pulling Thomas’ jockstrap after him with an absent twist of his wrist. Thomas’ cock sprung out, ready for Bastian, and yeah, Thomas was a little gratified at the way Bastian rocked back a little as he looked at it. Even Bastian Schweinsteiger was impressed by the size of his cock. That would be something to brag about, if Thomas was ever going to speak of this.

Bastian went at it with enthusiasm, wrapping his lips around Thomas’ cock with a small groan that Thomas probably shouldn’t have been able to hear, but he was hyper-focused on what Bastian was doing. Which was sliding his mouth down Thomas’ cock, sucking just a little as he got used to it, and damn if Bastian Schweinsteiger wasn’t surprisingly good at sucking cock. Thomas wondered if you learned this at a football academy, like you learned tactics or something. The 4-3-3 and how to give a pretty good blowjob. He wondered which one of his teammates he practiced on. Lewandowski, maybe. At least, that’s what Thomas pictured, with a groan, before directing his attention to the very real fantasy in front of him.

And God, what a fantasy it was. Bastian’s hair was light enough to shine in the low light, which cast his face – always distinctive, even now – into striking shadows. This was clearly Bastian Schweinsteiger sucking his cock, licking the shaft before pushing his mouth back down again, taking in as much of Thomas as he could. Thomas felt like he was doing his best to hold on, and came in a rush when Bastian wrapped a hand around his shaft and squeezed. Bastian had great hands. 

“Fuck.” Thomas blinked at the ceiling. Bastian Schweinsteiger just sucked his cock. He felt Bastian stand up and forced himself to focus, lowered his head and smiled back at him. “Your turn.” Because maybe Bastian was looking to go, maybe Bastian had just kind of realized what he had gotten himself into, but Thomas wasn’t about to let his one opportunity to suck Bastian Schweinsteiger’s cock slip away from him. 

Another reason why Thomas didn’t like the back room – the goddamn floor in these places. But he’d do a lot to suck Bastian Schweinsteiger’s cock. He hadn’t really done anything special – just underwear – but it was that nice expensive kind, tight and colorful, and Bastian was filling it out beautifully already, erection stretching it obscenely. Thomas sucked around it, knowing he couldn’t really take the time he wanted to, not here, but he couldn’t help himself. 

He pushed the underwear down when Bastian started to whimper and twist, gratified that he was already so into it. Thomas wished he could better see Bastian’s cock, but what he could see looked good, stiff and flushed and so very ready. Thomas leaned in and sucked, relishing the way Bastian’s hips twitched against his hands, the way his cock seemed to grow heavier the more he worked. Bastian clearly needed this, and Thomas revised his earlier idea – which, to be fair, was one he came up with while his dick was hard – that Bastian was practicing on his teammates. This was clearly someone who hadn’t had a blowjob he really wanted in far too long. 

Well. Thomas was determined to give him one. It wasn’t exactly a hardship. Bastian was already so hard, so responsive to everything that Thomas did. Each twirl of his tongue, each dip of his head, and Bastian whimpered and twisted, cock straining into Thomas’ mouth. He cried out when he came and Thomas swallowed, which wasn’t his favorite, but he was determined to get everything out of it he could. 

Bastian’s looked a little battered when Thomas stood. “Thanks,” he murmured.

“Any time.” Thomas winked, pressing his thumb against Bastian’s wrist. He felt protective, all of a sudden. “You’re probably going now, yeah?”

Bastian nodded. 

“Too bad,” Thomas said. He felt like that could mean a lot of different things. Too bad that they couldn’t make more of a night of this, of course, but also too bad that Bastian felt he had to run away while he could, that it was so much of a risk for him to come here in the first place. That he’d been desperate enough to. It was enough for Thomas to have these moments, but he knew there would have been plenty of others who wouldn’t think that way. “If you’re ever by this way again…”

“Sure.” Bastian smiled a bit. They both knew he wouldn’t be here again, but it was worth imagining that maybe, it could be different.

**Author's Note:**

> This is, I'm sure, wildly inaccurate in so many ways, but I hope it works regardless.


End file.
